Chapter Text
Mikasa is relieved to wake up to Eren next to her, like he said he’d be. He’s already awake, frowning at some papers, and her relief turns into embarrassment as she looks at him.
Did she really have a nightmare because Eren wasn’t with her? She’s been so ridiculous lately. There isn’t any reason for her to fear Eren disappearing. He’s made it clear, over and over again, that he’s with her to stay, and she doesn’t have any reason to doubt that.
“Morning,” he says. “How’d you sleep?”
“Better,” she answers.
“Good.” He gives her one of his almost-smiles, and it grows as she sits up, a playful edge to his expression. “Your hair is always so cute when you wake up.”
Frowning, Mikasa smooths out her disheveled hair — and as soon as she’s done, Eren reaches over and ruffles it, messing it up all over again. She shoves his hand away and he lets out a short laugh.
She can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not in a precious moment like this. She’s so lucky that all their hardships have led to this.
It’s easier for her to part with him that morning and Mikasa can only hope that means she’s starting to get over her ridiculous clinginess.
Most of her day is spent at her new job. In the group of workers that she’s joined, Mikasa is the only woman. It shouldn’t matter, really, but she still wishes that wasn’t the case.
The labor itself is… fine, although it makes her miss her previous capabilities. She can’t fully get over that silly, prideful part of her that hates being on the same level as the others now, after so many years of extraordinary strength. She isn’t weak now, of course, but she misses being truly strong, someone that men knew better than to offer unneeded help to.
The men she works with are alright, but it doesn’t take long to notice that they treat her differently than they do one another. She’d like to pretend it’s because she’s new but she knows that’s unlikely, with the surprise that had met her firm desire for this sort of work. She keeps her head down and focuses on proving that she can keep up with the work, which isn’t hard; it feels like they try to give her less demanding tasks and she does her best to ignore that suspicion.
The evening is better: she helps Charlotte cook dinner and brings the portions for herself and Eren into their temporary little home, then spends her time sewing up a few small tears in their clothing until her husband gets home. Eren barely gives her time to greet him, reaching into his pack before he’s even shut the door behind him.
“I have something for you,” Eren announces as he pulls a little wrapped bundle out. “Here.”
He practically shoves it into her arms. She unwraps it to find a a number of cookies. They’re imperfect, a little misshapen and crumbly, some of them broken into pieces, and unmistakably made by him.
For the first time since that morning, Mikasa smiles. When she looks up at Eren again, he has that sweetly embarrassed look that she loves so much, face tinted red. His expression pulls into a grimace as he looks down at the unwrapped mess of cookies.
“Some of them broke… sorry.” He looks entirely too stricken by a few broken cookies.
“They’ll still be good,” she says. “Thank you.”
He ducks his head. “Yeah.”
To appease him (and because, no matter what mature image she’s always tried to project, she’d still rather eat sweets than a nutritious meal), Mikasa selects one of the broken cookies. She takes a bite, pleasantly surprised by the taste.
“It’s good.”
“I made them for you,” Eren tells her eagerly. “Well, Hanneman helped a little, but I did pretty much all the work.”
He can be so endearing sometimes. She smiles and stretches up to kiss his cheek in appreciation for the sweet gesture. Somehow, that flusters him, his face going redder at the gentle press of her lips. She loves him so much it hurts.
It’s a good night, with none of the uncertainty and heartache of their first few nights. They have dinner, then their little dessert, and Mikasa can only feel grateful that they’ve made it as far as they have.
-
As long as they’re working toward building their life, things will get better with time. Mikasa knows this, believes it with all of her heart, but it doesn’t make her like this stage of their lives any better.
She can’t say that she likes her job, although she can’t say that she dislikes it either, exactly. It’s work and it keeps her busy. She has no desire to get to know any of her coworkers, shying away from any friendliness, somehow wary and disinterested despite how alone she feels.
She’s doing alright. She still misses the life they’d left behind on Paradis, but it settles into more of a dull ache with time. The hours of hard labor and discontent are worth it for moments like Eren telling her about some new thing he’s learned or proudly showing her a tincture he’d made.
They settle into a more peaceful coexistence with their hosts, still helping around the farm as payment for the lodgings. Eren and Jack don’t so much learn to get along as they come to a mutual agreement to interact as little as possible. From Charlotte, Mikasa learns more about living off the land and farming, as well as some new recipes, and the older woman gives her company outside of Eren and their animals.
With the clinic closed on weekends, Eren is free from his apprenticeship for a few days a week, and he ends up joining Mikasa at her own work. It’s a little better with him there; somehow, his presence makes her less conscious of herself and any subtle differences in the way she’s treated.
They find their new normal, both working seven days a week. It’s tiring and Mikasa is glad for it. By keeping herself busy, she spends less time focused on all the little things that she’s unhappy with. If she’s too tired to want to spend time around people, her loneliness doesn’t feel as bad, and when she doesn’t feel as lonely, she doesn’t miss their friends quite so much.
-
One evening, just over a week since they’d moved, Mikasa returns home from a particularly tiring ten hours of labor to find something off. When she goes to feed the animals, as she always does after work, she only finds three chickens waiting for her, Daisy nowhere to be found.
Her first, panicked thought is that a predator had gotten to the goat, but there isn’t any blood to be found, and it seems unlikely that the chickens would be unharmed, easy prey that they are. She’d probably escaped.
It doesn’t take long to find the runaway goat; she’d escaped the pen only to put herself in a different pen with the couple of other goats on the farm. The relief she feels is tinged with guilt as Mikasa realizes that while she’d once made sure to devote some time to her animals every day, she’s been so caught up in Eren ever since he came back that she’s been neglecting them.
Leaving the goat with her new friends, she searches out Charlotte and finds her before long.
“I found my goat with yours,” she tells her.
“Really?” The older woman doesn’t look very surprised, a small exasperated smile on her face. “They can be so good at escaping.”
“She hasn’t done that before,” Mikasa mumbles.
“Aww, it must have wanted to meet the other goats.”
Mikasa fidgets with her hands. “Do you think she’s… lonely?”
She feels foolish for being so bothered by it; Daisy is just a goat, a livestock animal lucky to have been kept as a pet rather than slaughtered for food. It just seems wrong to her that she’d neglected a living creature that was her responsibility.
“Maybe,” Charlotte says. “Did you always just have the one?”
“Yes.”
“Well, goats are herd animals. Maybe she wanted to be around her own kind, now that she’s near some.”
It makes sense, Mikasa supposes. Some animals crave companionship just as much as humans do… maybe more, when they’re prey animals like goats. Something about the words — her own kind — sticks in Mikasa’s brain unpleasantly.
“She might.”
“Well… we can try to keep them separated, or she can always stay with the others while you’re here.”
“... That might be good,” Mikasa decides, not sure how she feels. “Just until we move.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem,” Charlotte says, smiling and agreeable as ever.
“Thank you.”
The older woman dismisses her thanks and Mikasa hesitates for a moment. She’s had plenty of one-on-one time with her by now and has grown used to her presence, but she’s never quite managed to ask about some things that have been bothering her.
Her own kind, she thinks again, and remembers all the little things the woman’s own husband had said to suggest he sees Eldians as different, and her own words about them being normal now. Is her overly kind demeanor compensation of some kind?
“You’ve helped us so much,” she says, not sure where else to begin.
“It isn’t any trouble,” the woman replies. “We’re happy to help people in need.”
“... Even Eldians,” Mikasa says quietly.
Charlotte’s usual smile falters. “Well… of course. You’re people like us.”
(Now, Mikasa thinks to herself unhappily.)
“Jack doesn’t seem to like Eldians.”
The older woman’s gaze turns troubled. “He…” She looks away, gathering her thoughts instead of talking unfiltered as she usually does. “He’s not good with people, is all. He likes the two of you.”
That’s unexpected to hear. Mikasa isn’t sure if she believes it; she can imagine the way Eren would scoff at the words.
“We spent over forty years being taught to think of Eldians one way,” Charlotte continues after a pause. “And neither of us… we didn’t question it. We should have.”
“Is that why you’re helping us so much?”
“Part of it.” Her smile is back. “We would’ve offered either way, but it is good that you’re Eldians. You’re good kids.”
Mikasa is glad for her stoic face. She hasn’t been a good person in a long, long time, and Eren… he’d done his damned best to kill his good side.
(What would Charlotte think if she knew that Mikasa, deep down, is glad that things turned out this way, because it means that she and Eren get to be together? Even if she hates the Rumbling… without it, Eren would have died young. They would never have been able to be together for long, but now they have the chance.)
“I’ll have a talk with Jack,” Charlotte continues, bringing Mikasa out of her thoughts. “He’s a real grouch sometimes, but he means well.”
Mikasa wonders what the man must be like in private… and how he must act around people he really doesn’t like. He always seems so gruff and judgmental, and that awkward dinner is hard to forget. There are things about that conversation that she’s kept at the back of her mind, trying not to let them bother her or make her question how genuine any of this is. Maybe it’s time to finally ask.
“Doesn’t he view us as devils?”
The smile disappears again, replaced by a frown. “No. No, of course not. Jack likes the two of you. It’s— you know how men are, they like to hide even their positive feelings. You’re hard workers, you don’t make any trouble, you always help when asked. We’re glad to have you.”
“The other night…” Mikasa can’t just let it go, especially not when Charlotte only looks blank at the words, like she’d thought nothing of that conversation or even forgotten it. “When we talked about Eldians, it seemed like you think we’re… different.”
The older woman’s brow furrows.
“You were,” she says slowly, “but you’re not anymore.” There’s a long pause. “I don’t… I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“We were always people too,” Mikasa says, quiet but firm.
“Of course you were.” Charlotte looks up at her, confusion on her face. “We just didn’t understand, exactly… I’ve heard some about the… the other place, the Path? Where all of you were brought? And I know about Titans, of course, but it’s… hard to wrap my head around all of it. Of course you’re human now, but you… Eldians were different, before.”
“... Devils.” There’s a sinking feeling in her chest.
“No.” The answer is quick and firm, startling her. Charlotte seems almost flustered now. “No, that was ignorance. Eldians were never devils, we never should have believed that…”
She trails off, looking out at the fields before them. Beyond the reclaimed land lurks devastation, the end result of all those years of ignorance and violence and hate.
“Eldians were never devils,” she repeats, quieter. “Maybe your ancestor made a deal with the devil, but none of you did. You just… inherited her blood.
“But that… curse, it’s been lifted now. Humanity has been punished for its sins and repented.” Somehow, despite the dark subject, she seems brighter as she talks, more confident. “We want to get to know more Eldians, because we need to live up to the virtues that we abandoned before.”
Mikasa stays quiet, turning the words over in her mind uncomfortably. Does she view the Rumbling as some act of divine punishment? Does that mean she views it as an act of her god, not the devil? What would Eren think if he heard any of that…?
“Jack and I… we weren’t great about your people.” She’s quieter now, the surety of her words traded for remorse. “I turned away from the most important virtues without realizing it. So, that’s why as soon as we learned that there would be a few Eldians staying here, we wanted to offer you a place to live. We want to do better.” She pauses and gives a little sigh, smile turning apologetic. “Even if my husband is too much of a grouchy old man to show it.”
“Thank you.” Mikasa can’t get herself to try to return the smile, but she appreciates the conversation.
There’s a part of her that wants to pry — what did “not great” mean? It’s so hard to imagine this kindly woman hating Eldians the way most people had — but it might be better not to know. The conversation has her somehow unsettled, even as she understands their hosts more now.
The woman’s cheerful look is back in an instant. “Of course. I know you two are eager to get out on your own, but you should be comfortable while you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Mikasa repeats. “You’ve… been very kind.”
“A little kindness can go a long way, especially now.”
Mikasa nods her head, eyes going back to the fields, and tries not to think about how different things might have been, if only more people had learned that lesson years ago.
-
Eren gets home late again, as has become his new normal, and like always, his presence is enough to ease the muted unhappiness she feels. He’s in a decent enough mood, his apprenticeship still going well.
She’s glad that he’s figuring himself out, even if it means that they spend so much more time apart. She worries sometimes that he’s doing too much, but all the extra time spent constructively seems to be helpful for him, and he’s been taking care of himself like he said he would. It’
Once he’s finished telling Mikasa about his day, he pries gently about hers. He always does that even though she never has much to say.
“Daisy ran away,” she says, for once having news.
“Did you find her?”
“With their goats.”
“Oh.” He looks perturbed. “They don’t keep them for meat, right? Did you get her back?”
“They’re not going to kill her.” Mikasa grimaces. Why had he immediately jumped to that idea? How is she surprised? “They breed them, the girls are good for milk…”
“So they’re going to make her have babies,” he says unhappily.
“No, they’re not.” She hadn’t thought about that possibility. Baby goats would honestly be cute, but she doesn’t think Eren wants to hear that. “She… might be happier here, since she wanted to be with the other goats.”
“Are you giving her to them?” His tone borders on accusatory.
She thinks she should. It feels selfish to dislike the idea as much as she does. She doesn’t have the free time she used to, and she’s been so caught up in Eren and moving and trying to build this new life that she doesn’t even think of the animals as much as she used to, back when they were her only consistent companions. Goats are herd animals — social, just like humans are social creatures. Mikasa doesn’t want her pet to be lonely.
(It’s strange: she feels lonelier now, surrounded by a community and around people every day.)
“It might be better,” she says, “with how much we work.”
“Maybe for a while,” Eren grumbles after a moment, his expression almost a pout. “But that’s it.”
“We can always visit after we move.”
He makes a face at that and she decides it’s best to move the conversation along.
“I also talked to Charlotte about… the other night.”
“... Yeah?” Eren frowns at her.
“They didn’t mean anything bad. They just… don’t understand. Titans, the Paths…”
“Oh.” His frown is unchanging. “Well, none of that matters anymore, so…”
“Right. They don’t think badly of us—” Eren scoffs at that— “but they don’t understand how anything was for us.. for Eldians.”
When he doesn’t reply immediately, she keeps going: “I know you don’t like Jack, but she says they both want us here.”
“She says a lot of things,” he mutters.
“Is that why you don’t like her?”
He somehow manages to look uncomfortable, slightly guilty, and irritated all at once. “Doesn’t she remind you of Historia, back when she was Krista? Like she’s trying too hard to be nice all the time.”
“... A little,” Mikasa admits. “But I don’t think that has to be a bad thing.”
“Maybe not, but it’s…” He trails off, grimacing. “Never mind.”
“She feels guilty,” she continues after a moment, “for… the way things were before.”
“So it’s a guilt thing.” Eren looks pensive. If there’s one thing he can understand, it’s guilt. “I guess that makes sense.”
“She’s just trying to do better,” Mikasa says. Like you are, she doesn’t need to add.
He hums in acknowledgement and she hopes he takes the words to heart. She doesn’t tell him anything else from the conversation earlier; their new lives have no room for gods and devils, and she’s so tired of thinking about past sins. She just wants to get through this period of their lives as peacefully as possible, so that things can finally start feeling normal again.